


As still as a statue (but he brings me to life)

by Ladderofyears



Series: Drarropoly [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Big Decisions, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Breaking Your Marriage Vows, Christmas Eve, Falling In Love, Frottage, Harry Doesn't Behave Well AT ALL In This Fic, Hotel Sex, Infidelity, Love Affair, M/M, Not between Harry and Draco, Plans For The Future, Please Don't Hate Me, Songfic, be warned, consider yourself warned, finding your soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 04:50:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21502165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Harry Potter can't stop fantasising about Draco Malfoy, the man with whom he has been conducting an illicit affair with for the past two years. Should Harry upturn his entire existence and be with the one man that he truly loves?*Warning for some appalling behaviour from Mr. H. Potter. Please be warned!*
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Drarropoly [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591723
Comments: 8
Kudos: 213
Collections: Drarropoly 2.0 - A Drarry Game/Fest





	As still as a statue (but he brings me to life)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Drarropoly 2.0 story and is based on the following prompts: 
> 
> 1\. It is a Songfic, based on the lovely Fire and Ice, by Olivia Bray. (All of the bold text are lyrics from this excellent song. I do urge you to give it a listen.)  
> 2\. It needs to contain angst.

****

**Touch light as a feather, though I thought I knew better.  
** **But he puts fire in my veins.**

The very last time they met, Harry had made a resolution. “This has got to end,” he had said, sat on the edge of the bed. “This _thing_ between us. It’s cataclysmic, Draco. It’ll burn my world to pieces.”

Draco hadn’t replied. Harry had stared at the other man as he slowly redressed, watched as he charmed his hair straight and buttoned his shirt. 

Every meeting was always their last time, every single stolen tryst their final assignation. Draco knew Harry’s words were worthless. Every resolution Harry made after sex had the unfortunate side effect of breaking off their love affair and never seeing Draco again. 

That was the one future Harry would not contemplate. His loving Draco would be his undoing, Harry supposed. It would be the Unforgivable Curse that wiped out his existence. Loving Draco would unravel the remnants left of his marriage and cause his children heartbreak. Loving Draco would lay waste to friendships and obliterate his career. 

Harry knew all of this and yet he simply could not loosen his grasp. Harry knew that those swift, stolen hours with Draco were his real life; that they were truer that anything else in the world. Every other moment of his existence was infidelity. 

It was the night before Christmas, and Harry’s only thoughts were of Draco. 

Harry’s blood thrummed though his veins while he imagined his lover. How Draco’s grey eyes darkened when he was aroused and those soft breathy noises Draco made just before he orgasmed. Harry pictured the way Draco’s nostrils flared ever so slightly when he felt annoyed and dreamt of the upper-class snort of laughter Draco made whenever Harry amused him. Harry felt his resolutions crumble into a million shards alongside each image and before he had even considered his actions had _Accio’ed_ parchment and quill. 

Harry’s hands flew across the parchment and his words were a plea. _‘I miss you. I need you tonight.’_

As Harry wrote his heart drummed against his ribs. 

Quite honestly, Harry didn’t even know if Draco would respond. The other man was capricious and impulsive. Draco might have left for Christmas in France beside his Mother or travelled to Ibiza with Pansy. Both were plans that Draco had idly mentioned to Harry Potter while they lay post-coital, sticky and satiated in their hotel bed. Harry wasn’t any kind of idiot. Draco had been subtly warning him. Informing Harry that he had a full, busy life; explaining that while Harry played at being a family man he wouldn’t really be missed. 

Harry frowned at the memory, feeling suddenly irritated. He hated the idea that Draco had a life away from him. Hated that Draco had a full existence outside of their love-affair. He rolled up the parchment tightly before attaching it to Cicero’s leg. 

The owl was a well-trained, Auror-class beast who scratched and fought at the windowpane as soon as Harry whispered Draco’s name and it took only seconds for the creature to disappear into the inky-black sky. 

Harry bit his lip as he shut the window. He’d made his decision, so now he needed to give Ginny the bad news. 

Guilt piled into Harry’s belly but the owl had already flown. It was already too late to back out.

~@~

“What do you mean, you have to work?” Ginny spat out angrily, her face creasing up into a familiar scowl. This was pretty much the only reaction that his wife offered him any longer: as a husband Harry knew he was both disappointing and pathetic. 

Harry couldn’t remember when he’d stopped being present for Ginny, or when he’d ceased to make her the centre of his life. Perhaps they married too young, bowing to the weight of other peoples expectations? It didn't truly matter, for Ginny and he could barely abide each others company any more.

“You’re the Head- _bloody_ -Auror Harry! This is just so typical of you. We’re already late because you were arsing about upstairs for _Merlin_ knows how long!”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Harry answered, his voice cringingly apologetic, “but we’ve been close to breaking this illegal potion ring for months. We’ve just had some good intel come in… If we get in there tonight- _Christmas Eve_ \- well, they won’t be expecting it. I can’t ask others to go out into the field if I'm not willing...” 

Harry knew he was a good liar. Years in the Auror Service had hardened Ginny to his unpredictable hours. His Saviour reputation meant the Harry could more easily get away with such holier-than-thou statements than most wizards. 

Harry gave Ginny his best downhearted, contrite expression but his wife wasn’t swayed in the least. 

“I know it’s not ideal Gin,” Harry said, looking at James, Albus and Lily, all lined up neat and ready and stood next to the fireplace. “It shouldn’t take too long to sort and then I’ll apparate straight to The Burrow. You go and get started… You lot won’t even miss me.” 

Harry didn’t doubt the truth of his statement. James, tall and ginger and a Weasley in all but name seemed sullen and suspicious. 

Jamie was a sharp young wizard, inured to the bickering barbs that Ginny and he threw at other far too often. James had seen far too many arguments and witnessed far too many tears. Al was too excited about visiting his cousins to care about his father, but Lily looked upset at Harry’s words. 

“Be careful, Daddy,” Lily whispered, her small green eyes tinged with tears. “Don’t let them cast any bad spells on you. Don’t let the bad wizards get close!”

The guilty feelings rolled and coiled through Harry’s middle as he leant over to kiss her. “I’m always careful,” Harry replied. “Look at me. All these years and I’m still in one piece, baby. Don’t you worry, petal. I’ll come in to kiss you goodnight later.”

Harry offered Ginny a smile but she could only shake her head. Her face was venomous, and for very good reason. Harry knew that. Ginny hadn’t ever stood a chance at coming first, not really. Not when she’d married Harry Potter, Boy-Saviour and Chosen One. Not when her promising Quidditch career was cut short with baby after baby, each of them a Sticking Charm on their already-failing marriage. 

But Harry loved his children. He wishing hard that he could somehow save them from the inevitable future that rocketed towards them like a hex. Save them from the consequences of Harry’s weakness. Save them from this love that had consumed him so entirely. 

“Just _don’t_ ,” Ginny stated baldly. He mouth was pulled into a thin line and fury rolled off her in waves. “Don’t play at being _our_ bloody Saviour too. Just… Just go and do what you need to. You always do.” Breaking off abruptly, Ginny moved Jamie and Al into the fireplace. With a pinch of Floo Power she dispatched their eldest two boys away to their grandparent’s home. She took hold of Lily’s hand and gave Harry a long, appraising look. 

“You’re there for every other wizard and witch in existence. But not us. _Never_ us. This can’t carry on much longer. The pitiful thing is I know you’ve already made your decision. Always so good at knowing other people Harry. But rather less good at knowing _yourself_.” 

Ginny stepped into the Floo before Harry could fathom a reply, taking Lily with her. She deserved better and so did their children. He stared as the last vestiges of sparkling green flames disappeared. Harry knew he’d already made his choice. 

Draco filled Harry’s heart, his mind. His very soul. 

****

**Quick glance, swift as the ocean, now I am frozen.  
** **He takes my breath away.**

Pouring himself a glass of Ogden’s Finest, Harry settled down at the kitchen table to wait for Draco.

The Firewhiskey burnt at his throat and deadened his senses, settling into his gut like a rancid acid. Truthfully, Harry knew he’d drank far too much of this poison since meeting Draco again two years before but he couldn’t seem to help himself. It dulled his loneliness in the long days between their meetings and lessened the weight of his guilt. 

Harry barely had time to finish the glass before Valerian, Draco’s Great Grey owl was tapping at the window. 

Harry felt light-headed, his thoughts fuzzy inside his head. Even after two years, contact with Draco still had the same _Stupefying_ effect on his body. He walked blindly over to the window, taking the message from the owl’s leg with anxious, clumsy fingers. 

‘ _Message received, Auror Potter,_ ’ Draco had written, his handwriting elegant and swirling. ‘ _If we’re both in agreement, then I suggest we rendezvous in our regular location. If not, do please firecall_.’

The pair conducted their love affair through owl messages and secret meetings. Neither visited the other’s home and they never met in public. They’ve never been on a date or danced, or eaten food that wasn’t room service. The ‘regular location’ that Draco mentioned was a suite in the Avalon, a muggle hotel in North Cornwall. Draco maintained rooms there, conducting their affair far away from prying eyes and questioning families. 

They’d met again only two years previously, laying eyes on each other for the very first time since the War at a boring Ministry dinner. 

For ten years, Harry had followed Draco surreptitiously in the pages of the _Prophet_. He’d read articles where Draco explained why he’d broken off his engagement to Astoria Greengrass, proudly outing himself as gay to a backward, conservative wizarding public. Harry had been transfixed with Draco’s gall, his sheer bravery in doing so. Draco was far more courageous that Harry knew how to be. Harry had subtly watched Draco throughout dinner, even with Ginny sat beside him. The vitriol and hared of their youth had seemingly altered into a fervent fascination. 

Harry had manoeuvred his way into talking to Draco, and amazingly, the other man had seemed equally interested. Draco had abandoned the young Quidditch star beside him to make small-talk with Harry for hours. Harry knew they’d embarrassed Ginny terribly; ignoring and snubbing their hosts, but he’d not had in him to care. Every nerve in Harry’s body had felt alive in a way it hadn’t since he was sixteen. 

Harry had already felt half in love with Draco Malfoy. He had taken the first inevitable step and there was already no turning back. 

Draco had firecalled the following morning, making some spurious excuse for the two of them to meet at the Avalon that evening. Twenty-four hours after their first conversation, Harry had held Draco in his arms, a tangle of long limbs and sweat-damp skin. Only in this breaking of his marriage vows had Harry found out the essential truth about himself, and the man- if he were brutally honest- that he’d unconsciously wanted his entire life. 

Two years had passed since their first time and Harry had fallen head over heels for Draco. 

Knowing that they were meeting coalesced Harry quickly into action. 

Every second that passed was a second Harry wasn’t with his beloved so he didn’t have a second to waste. With a twist of his wand, he retrieved his scarf, coat and boots, pulling them on distractedly and untidily. Harry didn’t bother to charm his hair straight either; Draco would only tease him about it, call it a birds-nest. He dispatched Valerian back to his home with a handful of treats. 

Finally, Harry dived over to his Auror kit. He retrieved a small box from the bottom that he’d charmed shut with a tricky little spell. This was Draco’s Christmas gift and even thinking about the present made Harry’s whole stomach swoop with nerves. 

He pocketed the box and then Harry disapparated, feeling the squeeze and spiral of the enchantment around him. The world disappeared, magic transporting him to the man he loved. 

~@~

Harry arrived in the alleyway beside the Avalon in a crackle of green sparkles. 

All around him houses were filled with twinkling lights and the muffled sounds of cheery muggle Christmas music, but Harry was determined not to let his thoughts crawl in the direction of families and parties. The frigid December winds were cutting and Harry wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck before pushing open the door to the Avalon. 

Harry didn’t say a word as he walked through the foyer of the Hotel. He didn’t need to. The receptionist was a pretty young lady- Phoebe- who gave Harry a sly, knowing smile. After all, Draco and he have been meeting like this at least once a week for two years and she had seen it all. 

Phoebe was under the impression that Harry’s name was _James Evans_ and that Draco’s was _Sev Black_. 

It was a ridiculous, piteous subterfuge but for some reason their ruse had worked perfectly. Their affair had remained a secret known only to them both and this lone muggle girl. Harry paced around their suite as soon as he got inside, his every nerve jangling for the sound of Draco’s key-card in the door. 

He could neither sit still or lay down, the sheer anxiety coursing through him causing his head to pound and his throat to close. It was farcical; every single time, Harry would convince himself that Draco had changed his mind, that his lover had decided to break off their affair without a word. 

Draco always arrived later than Harry and these spare minutes were a simple torture. With an imagination left to run riot, Harry quickly concluded that Draco wasn’t coming; that he’d chosen to let Harry stumble and lurch lonely through the rest of his life. Then Harry heard the sound of a card slotting into the door and the handle opening. Harry flew to the door, so terribly greedy for Draco and that first blissful sight of his lover’s white-blond hair, of his dark grey eyes. 

Harry was a man in love and he craved this moment more than anything else in his life. 

Draco strode into the suite casually and easily; tall and lithe and as effortlessly sophisticated as always. Invariably Draco dressed suavely and tonight wasn’t an exception. Harry had tried his hardest to keep up during their first, tentative meetings but Draco had preferred his unkempt attire, his disorderly hair and old-fashioned glasses. 

“You’re real,” Draco had said, stroking his cheek with a shy smile. “Genuine like nothing else in my life.”

Before his eyes, Draco tugged off his wool coat and hung it beside Harry’s own. The blond was freshly shaven, his skin dewy and clean and the suite was soon filled with his sharp, citrusy cologne. Draco took two, three steps across the room, taking hold of Harry’s cold, shaking hands in his own. 

“Of all the owls on the wizarding world, I wasn’t expecting yours tonight, Harry,” Draco said, his eyes luminous. He was always so calm, Harry thought, placid even. “On Christmas _Eve_ of all occasions. Is everything alright Harry? Aren't you supposed to be with Ginevra? Some shindig at the Weasleys?”

Harry didn’t ask how Draco knew this. He tried not to talk about his family with Draco: somehow it felt like a greater unfaithfulness than their love making. “I told her I was in the field,” Harry replied, his voice a rumble from deep in his chest. “Gin isn’t a fool though. She knows that something is going on-”

“If you’re here with me, then be here,” Draco replied, crowding in closer. “Don’t think about the rest of the world. While we’re here it’s only us. Nothing- _nobody_ \- else exists.”

Draco leaned over and kissed Harry hard. 

Harry felt his heart swell at the treacle-sweet taste of Draco’s mouth and the warmth of his thin, pliable lips. Draco opened his mouth, deepening their kiss just as Harry bit back a moan. He paused for a moment, joyous at breathing same air as his lover before tracing the outline of Draco’s mouth with the tip of his tongue. 

Draco’s teeth were silky clean; the delicate taste of toothpaste charms were so indelibly _Draco_ that Harry felt himself growing erect, his prick as demanding of his lover as the rest of him. 

Draco noticed Harry’s interest and moved subtly closer. Harry knew Draco wasn’t hard yet but that he soon would be. The slow, seductive grind of their bodies together, a sacrosanct routine honed over so many meetings, would get him stiff and ready soon enough. “Nobody else exists,” Draco repeated, his words a tickle against Harry’s ear as he pulled out of their kiss. “Only us, Potter.”

Draco pressed an intimate, open-mouthed kiss against Harry’s scar before he stepped backwards. Harry felt his cock lurch in his trousers, already missing the feel of its soulmate. Draco stood still, regarding Harry thoughtfully. 

“You didn’t summon me away from the Zabini Christmas Eve dinner party without a reason, Harry,” he said, sliding off his thin navy jumper in a single move. “Shall we make love?”

Harry watched as his beloved unbuttoned a glossy grey shirt, throwing it to the floor without a second glance. Even after all their meetings, Harry still felt taken aback by how pale Draco was, his skin flawless and marble white. In the soft light of their suite Draco’s Dark Mark still was stark against his forearm and his nipples were a dusky, pebbled pink. There was a spattering of almost translucent body hair that Harry ached to stroke. A thrill of anticipation rolled through him, breaking his skin into goose-pimples and silencing his voice. Harry didn’t need to speak: he already knew full well that Draco could read the hunger in his eyes. 

Draco pulled off his Italian leather boots and quickly toed off his socks. He stood, undid his belt and unzipped his black, tailored trousers before pushing both those and his boxer shorts down and over his hips. Draco’s prick, nestled within tight honey-coloured curls and flushed red at the tip leapt joyously free. 

“I’m waiting,” Draco said, stood in all his naked glory. “I’d like you to fuck me.”

****

**But I'm not supposed to love him.  
** **Not supposed to think about his touch when I’m alone.**

Everything afterwards happened in a rush. 

Animalistic desire seized hold of Harry’s senses and immediately his covetous touches were all over Draco’s skin, soaking up the silken softness and warmth of his lover’s body. He coasted his fingers over Draco’s raised nipples and snaked his hands over his lover’s jutting hips, stomach and the hollow of his back. 

Harry heard himself growl with raw need. Every time they met felt like this felt as exhilarating as their very first time. Draco had turned him into a panting, grasping schoolboy and so Harry pulled Draco to him, kissing him hard. Arousal coursed through Harry’s body and he splayed his wide hands on Draco’s lower back, holding him close. Draco’s body was so hot, and his flesh moved so deliciously over his muscles and ribs that suddenly Harry couldn’t wait any longer. 

He needed to be inside his lover. 

Draco must have felt the same, for he took an abrupt step back and started fumbling with the clasp of Harry’s belt. Their hands were almost in battle, tangling and fighting as they fought to free Harry from his clothes. Harry groaned in frustration, his cock throbbing and full. It felt like an age before Draco shoved Harry’s opened trousers and underwear to the floor, his pointy face smug with victory. 

Harry barely had a moment to kick of his shoes and step out of the tangle of clothes before Draco was crowding him once more and sliding Harry’s grey sweater over his shoulders. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Draco rasped, knotting his fingers through the dark thatch of hair that blanketed Harry’s chest. “I fucking love you, Harry. I’ve fantasised about this moment. Orgasmed in my dreams last night and woke up wet like a bloody _child_ because I couldn’t stop imagining this moment.” 

“I love you,” Harry managed, his voice rough and desperate. “ _Salazar_. You don’t know what you do to me, Draco.”

He stroked the underside of Draco’s cock, already sticky with pre-come, revelling in the weight and smoothness of him. “I’ve lusted after you every moment. You’ve captivated me. _Unmanned_ me.” Harry moved directly in front of Draco, not wanting there to be even an inch left between the two of them. He released his hold of Draco’s prick, before moving in front of his lover and powerfully clasping his hips. 

Draco grinned, undulating his hips so their erections rolled and grazed. It felt majestic and Harry felt an overwhelming wave of lust overtake him. 

“I need you,” Draco whispered, writhing his hips so that their cocks frotted and caressed in a delicious friction. “Make love to me, Harry. Please.” 

The separated only briefly to move over the bed. Draco fumbled briefly in his coat and emerged with a small jar of lube that he passed to Harry who focused his wandless magic. The jar expanded to its normal size. 

“Such a show-off,” Draco murmured softly, as he lay down on the bedsheets. He looked up in anticipation at Harry, his grey eyes blown wide in desire. 

“You keep coming back for more, though,” Harry chided as he unscrewed the lid, scooping out a dollop of the slick substance and warmed it on his fingers. “You must like it,” he said, bringing his fingers down to Draco’s arse. Harry so loved these first slick touches of Draco’s arsehole. Quite honestly, Harry worshipped the very sight of Draco’s hole; it was tightly furled and pink and surrounded by soft downy hair. 

As he spread the wetness around, Draco shuddered and sighed. “Merlin,” Harry rumbled as he slid in a finger. “You’re such a fucking _gift_ , Draco. So bloody beautiful.”

“Deeper. Don’t stop!” Draco begged, bucking his hips franticly in encouragement. “Open me up! I want to feel every inch of you!” Harry didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The tight, enveloping heat of Draco was familiar and yet still more arousing than any fantasy. Harry loved Draco, loved how flushed and fevered the other man became just before sex. 

An unclouded adoration radiated through Harry as his lover’s body trembled under his fingers. The muscles of Draco’s stomach were tight and taut as Harry found Draco’s sweet spot. Harry withdrew, before entering Draco once more with three fingers. He pushed in deeply, opening Draco wide and perfect to take all of his cock. 

“I’m ready,” Draco whimpered, his cock a hard, leaking presence against Harry’s belly. “I _can’t_ … You’re going to make me come.”

Harry withdrew, and reached into the lube pot to make himself slick and ready. 

He moved up the bed, bracing himself against the back of Draco’s knee, his bobbing prick slipping down between his lover’s arse cheeks and kissing his beloved's well-prepared entrance. Time seemed to slow as Harry reached down to line himself up with Draco’s hole. 

“I fucking love you, Draco,” Harry murmured and then he pushed inside him.

That first clenched slide into Draco was the part of sex that Harry always savoured most. He was utterly besotted. Breeching those tight muscles and feeling the indelible warmth of his lover astounded Harry anew each and every time. Once their bodies were fully joined, Draco made a low, breathy noise, his pale thighs quivering. Harry was soon sheathed in Draco’s body, his hips pressed firmly against Draco’s backside. 

“Draco,” Harry whispered, his voice stuttering, leaning down to catch Draco’s lips in a rough, mussy kiss. “You’re so good for me. So fucking _tight_ for me right now.” Harry drew back slowly, then pushed in again, building up a rhythm that was slow and passionate. 

They knew each other’s bodies so well; Harry knew exactly how Draco liked to be penetrated and raw heat thrummed through his veins with every single thrust. Harry panted together with Draco as they found their bliss; their bodies sheened with sweat, flushed red and breathless.

Harry couldn’t last; he never could with Draco. He wrapped his hand around Draco’s satiny, sticky cock and felt it jerk in his hands. “Fuck… Harry! God...” Draco groaned, his eyes locked shut. “I’m _coming-_ ” 

Jets of creamy white spilled from Draco’s cock, coating Harry’s fist and splattering over his stomach. Harry felt his lover really open up for him, and then he was thrusting frenziedly, losing his rhythm and tipping over into orgasm. “Come for me,” Draco hissed, his voice broken and uneven. “Come inside my arse... I want you to mark me… Want you to make me yours!”

His balls tightened and drew up close to his body and then Harry’s orgasm ripped though him, shrinking the entire planet to the man in his arms. 

Pleasure rippled and burned though his body, igniting his senses and making his whole body shake. Harry loved Draco, loved him more than any person he’d ever met. They were two halves of the same racing, pounding heart; destined by fate to find each other. The pair of them collapsed into an exhausted pile of limbs atop ruined sheets, pressing messy, wet kisses on each others faces. 

Harry laughed, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, high as a snitch with the sheer joy of being in love. Draco was his destiny. Harry knew that much. 

Draco was only choice he could make. 

****

**The love was brand new, now has a dark hue.**  
**I’m still as a statue but he brings me to life.  
** **Don’t care if it’s right.**

Afterwards, the pair of the them did a quick clean up, _Scourgifying_ the bed and themselves. 

Harry sent a Patronus to Ginny, explaining that their mission was taking far longer than expected. “Enjoy yourself,” he finished, “and tell the kids that I’m fine. I’ll be there when I can.” 

He felt the guilt bloom in his gut, thoughts of his family weighing him down like a stone. 

“You’re going to tell me, that you can’t see me any more,” Draco stated, sliding between the sheets. “Tell me that this has to end. You always run back to them, Harry. Back to your family-”

“I don’t have to go yet,” Harry replied, crawling in next to Draco. He gathered the skinny figure of his lover in his arms, spooning Draco close and snuggling into the heat of his sweat-damp neck. Draco smelt wondrous; like musk, clean skin and sex, and Harry couldn’t help but press open-mouthed kissed over his flesh, tasting him, _consuming_ him. “We’ve got time. I’m glad you’re here, love. So glad you came. I’m sorry about the dinner party.”

“They know I’ve met someone,” Draco murmured after a long moment of just lying there, cradled in Harry’s arms. Harry carded a finger lazily through his lover’s blond hair, his other arm wrapped possessively around Draco’s body. “Pansy and the rest. They just don’t know who. It’ll please you to know they’re not even close to guessing-”

“What would they think,” Harry asked, the words tumbling out in a rush, “if we were together? Properly, I mean. Waking up with you… Going out for meals. Living together. Could they accept us?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” Draco said softly, honest like he always was. “They would do eventually.” Draco sat up a little, and found Harry’s eyes with his own. “But my friends aren’t the issue. You’ve got a wife. Children. You’re the hero of the wizarding world Harry. Our Chosen One. You’re the one with everything to lose.”

Harry reached over then, feeling around blindly for his wand on the night-stand. With a soft _Accio_ , he summoned the small box from its hiding place in his coat pocket. 

“Eventually,” Harry repeated, placing the box carefully in Draco’s hand. “That’s what I’ve been terrified of, Draco. Since that very first day I met you at the Ministry dinner. All the hurt and the pain that being with you- properly- is going to cause. I get so afraid of the cataclysm that I forget about the _eventually_. So… I’ve brought you this. Happy Christmas Draco.”

Inside the small box was a plain gold ring, engraved with _L &J September 1979._

Harry watched as Draco’s nimble, trembling fingers plucked it from the faded velvet bed. “It’s enchanted,” Harry said, his heart pounding with nerves. “Goblin gold. As long at the love remains true, this ring can never be lost. It’s a proof of my commitment to you. One day, Draco I’d like you to wear my ring. Show the world our love.” 

“Harry, you must know I can’t accept this. This is your father’s wedding ring.” 

“You don’t have to wear it on your finger,” Harry plead, cupping Draco’s face and kissing him lightly, their bodies fitting together so naturally, both men exactly where they belonged. “Wear it on a chain around you neck or keep it in your pocket. I love you Draco.” 

Draco shook his head. His fingertips pushed up into Harry’s hair as they kissed delicately once more. 

“Just stay beside me a little while longer, Harry.” Draco whispered, guiding Harry back down into the warmth of the bed. “I love you.” 

~@~ 

They dozed together but when Harry woke an hour later he was alone once more. 

True to his word, Draco hadn’t taken James’s wedding ring which still sat alone on the bedside table. Beside the tiny box, Draco had written him a note, his graceful handwriting anachronistic on the Avalon- headed paper. 

_‘Go home and spend Christmas with your children, Harry. My present to you is this: next year, we’ll start working on our own happy ending. Live with me._

_I will wear your ring, my love. Just not on a chain and not in my pocket. Only on my finger, when I can show it to the whole world._

_Life is a matter of choices, and every choice you make makes you.  
Draco.’_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading xxx


End file.
